


In the Devil's Ring of the Moon

by Blaise_On_Melancholy_Hill



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: A Quiet Sweet Moment, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anal Sex, M/M, Mild Drug Use (Opium), No Dialogue, Post-Battle of Rose Creek, alcohol use, implied marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:48:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26879218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blaise_On_Melancholy_Hill/pseuds/Blaise_On_Melancholy_Hill
Summary: Sometimes people would ask Goodnight about the wedding band he had taken to wearing. Others thought he had been wearing it forever, only Billy knew where the ring had really come from, and why Goodnight wore it. Sometimes it's the simplest comforts that are the most helpful on dark nights.
Relationships: Goodnight Robicheaux/Billy Rocks
Comments: 11
Kudos: 38





	In the Devil's Ring of the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first thing I've ever written for the Magnificent Seven, and honestly, I just watched it for the first time not too long ago. I absolutely love Ethan Hawke, and something about the obviously close relationship between Goodnight and Billy is just beautiful.

Whenever anybody asked Goodnight Robicheaux about the silver band wrapped around the third finger of his left hand, he'd look at it with a wistful little smile. That longing look was normally followed by a silent glance at his constant companion which was often returned, but not always. 

"Old memories," Was his usual answer and nobody so far had questioned him further of it. 

He'd sit by the campfire at night spinning the ring around his finger absently as though he wasn't exactly aware he was doing it. He would touch it during card games as if it would give him luck to win this hand. As far as anybody knew, he had been wearing it for years, and he would let everybody believe that. Perhaps he had a long lost wife of a past life and he wore the ring to remember her, or maybe he had promised a part of his heart to somebody and they had never had the chance to hold it close and dear to their own. 

People assumed the memories were painful, but on nights when Goodnight and his companion were alone, when Billy would lay against him, those were the nights when the ring was furthest from his mind. The trinket always forgotten in favour of carding his fingertips through dark, silky hair. He may have run away from the proposal, but even then he had known he would come back. Billy had made it seem like goodbye, and Goodnight couldn't handle it at the moment. Now though, months later he just wanted to let himself enjoy an evening with Billy and a bottle of whiskey.

This was one of those particular evenings. The sun had only just set behind the mountaintops, staining the sky a bloody reddish orange, the shadows stretching across the ground quickly. Soon the only light would come from the golden embers of the fire nearby and perhaps the moon, should it rise above the cliffs. The thick wool of his saddle blanket was spread beneath him, softening the sharp edges of the rocks at the bottom of the cliffside. His saddle lay behind him, the stirrups tucked underneath it so he could lean on the side of it comfortably. 

Billy lay against his right side, facing the fire with Goodnight's fingers slowly curling through his hair. The locks had grown over the past months, and though Billy usually pinned it back through the day, he let it loose each night they stopped for camp. Goodnight had always given his silent appreciation by dragging his fingers through the locks each night, complimenting each new inch added over time. 

His attention was turned away from the softness of the silken strands between his fingers though, as Billy's hand slid across his chest to take hold of his own. Calloused fingertips traced over the polished band, and even as Goody reached toward him, catching gentle hold of the chain around his neck, Billy still held to him. Goodnight pulled gently on the chain to produce a simple silver ring, one that was identical to his own, running the tips of his fingers across it. He lifted the band toward his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the smooth metal first before he rolled his hand to lift Billy's knuckles to his lips, placing a soft kiss there too. 

There was no need for words as Billy moved to lean up on one elbow, letting Goody keep a hold of his hair even as he leaned in to kiss him. The coarseness of Goodnight's beard scraped over his cheek and Billy was sure it would leave an irritated red mark, but he had always enjoyed sporting those marks. Goody's kisses were always soft, using only lips and tongue, but there were times when he would get his teeth into Billy's skin and leave bruises in his wake. 

The soreness in Billy's body the morning after their couplings was something he absolutely coveted, he relished the twinges and aches the next day, the reminders of Goody's hands and mouth. Those calloused fingers were tugging at his clothes now, pulling his jacket from his shoulders and going for the buckle of his belt as Billy pulled back. He tugged his own shirt off, not bothering to unbutton it, just pulling it up over his head even as Goodnight's insistent hands pushed his pants and underclothes down to his knees where he could kick them off for himself. 

He was fully naked by the time he moved to straddle Goody's lap, and the other man didn't even have his belt undone. That was quickly amended though, and Billy tugged Goodnight's clothes open and out of the way, baring his chest to the dying light of the embers, tracing over the many pink scars of bullet holes across that pale skin on their way down to get his pants undone. One of those strong hands slid through his hair again and Billy leaned into the touch, letting it guide him down into an open mouthed kiss even as Goodnight reached into one of the saddle bags to produce some oil.

This was a regular thing at this point, something Billy needed and Goody gave him eagerly and frequently, loving his body, companionship and everything they could offer each other. It was a normal enough thing that Billy had grown comfortable enough doing it without needing to be stretched with fingers first. Goodnight sometimes seemed to enjoy surprising him with it, pinning him to the nearest flat surface and giving him what he had been craving all day. 

He was allowed to pull away just long enough for Goody to dribble some of the oil over his hard cock, rubbing it in lightly before he was pulling Billy in for another kiss. He let Goody hold him there, feeling the blunt thickness of him as he pressed against his ass, then, he was pushing in. Billy moaned against Goody's mouth, one hand moving to hold tightly to the hard leather of the saddle behind them as the unyielding hardness of Goodnight's cock slid fully into him. 

His knees shook lightly with the sudden pleasure of it, the ache that spread so deliciously through his insides. He hardly even noticed Goodnight shifting underneath him before he was being lifted a few inches and a hard pace was suddenly beginning. He could do little more than kneel there, holding onto the saddle and Goodnight's jacket shoulder as they kissed languidly. Their tongues danced a passionate waltz while their bodies came together as one roughly, in just the way Billy loved it most. 

They didn't fit together, there were all sharp angles and wiry muscle wrapped over jutting bones. They should not have worked so perfectly together, but Billy felt only comfort and even love from Goody as his body was racked by rough pleasure. The hand that had settled in his hair tightened, tugging him back as the kiss was broken, having him sit up more as the silvery light of the moon began to spill over the top of the cliff. Billy moaned with the new position, making his body move to meet with each of Goodnight's thrusts. 

He felt somewhat like a whore perched up there naked in Goody's lap, his head tipped back and one hand resting on the strong chest below him as he rode down on needy thrusts. He couldn't bring himself to care though, not when those brilliant blue eyes were trained on him heavily, watching him with a heady lust burning deep in their core. He just enjoyed being fucked in the way he loved the most, letting Goody do most of the work. 

The man was surprisingly silent during sex, hardly ever speaking a single word even though the rest of his life was filled with stories and exaggeration. It seemed like most of the time sex was the one time he finally let his actions speak louder than his words ever could. Sometimes he never shut up, but sometimes, like now, he let their coupling speak for itself. 

Besides, if he had been yammering on, he would miss all of the tiny little sounds that Billy let loose. He was quiet, but not quite silent as he was bounced in Goodnight's lap, letting out these little moans and hitched gasps. He could never seem to stop those noises either. They were pushed from him roughly with each in stroke of Goody's cock as if he couldn't get enough of it. 

He could sense the tension in his body, seeing all those lithe muscles rippling as Billy's body convulsed lightly with his pleasure. Goodnight could tell it was getting to that point and he held tighter to Billy, fingertips pushing into soft flesh roughly, leaving behind welts and bruises. He tugged Billy closer, and there was the soft slip of his lips over Billy's chest before the almost too rough pinch of his teeth pulled another mark to his skin. They held to each other tightly, keeping each other close even as they reached the edge and both together fell over it, tangled up in one another as they found the peak of their pleasures. 

With Billy settled in his lap and laid against his chest, Goodnight reached for his flask, uncapping it to take a long draw from it. He reached with his free hand to pull his duster up and over Billy's hips, covering him a little from the increasing chill of the night. Billy was already grabbing one of their opium cigarettes from the case he had and was leaning over to light it on the coals of their fire. One of Goodnight's hands slid over Billy's ribs, the light touch just barely enough to help him keep his balance before he moved back to lay against the strong chest below him. 

Together, they shared the flask of whiskey and the cigarette, letting their campfire die away, leaving them blanketed in the beautiful silver light of the moon. Goodnight tipped his head back against his saddle, looking up toward the medallion above them. The devil's ring wrapped around the moon tonight, whispering secrets of a cold night, but while they were together like this, even the frostiest evening had troubles getting to them. With Billy laid on him like this, Goody could almost forget about the war and the pain, the black wings that followed his moves wherever he went.

With Billy, Goodnight was a stronger man.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I did this beautiful pair justice ^-^  
> I'm also hoping to write some more for this fandom too, I can't help but love all these cowboy husbands haha.


End file.
